by A. P. Fuchs
“Am I done?” she said quietly. “At least this thing looks like it is.” She stared at it, waited for it to do something, but nothing happened. “In time, always in time.”
* * * *
When Tracy woke up, Joe was no longer beside her. Before, she had considered finding a cozy spot of her own, but thought better of it and snuggled up beside him instead. It had been the better choice, she told herself when she sat up and stretched.
The rich scent of freshly-brewed coffee floated down the hallway to her room. Screw the bathroom. Coffee came first. Thank God for battery-powered coffeemakers. When she went into the kitchenette, she smiled when she saw Joe sitting at the table, cup of coffee in one hand, his new .9mm in the other.
He looked up at her and gestured to the gun. “It isn’t the X-09, but it’ll do. Maybe with a few modifications . . .”
“Leave it,” she said as she poured herself a cup. She sat down beside him. They both took their coffee black.
“Sleep okay?” he asked.
“Kind of. The sleep part. The dream part was messed up, though.”
“Want to share?”
“It’s all a fog, but I remember clear images of bullfrogs with purple skin, and something about jack-o’-lanterns being good for you.”
“Maybe as pie.”
“Maybe.” She took a sip of her coffee. “What time did you get up?”
“You know, I didn’t even look at the clock. I don’t really care. Ever since this all started—well, I sort of had a schedule when this all started, but since things got crazy and I came here—yeah, just whatever. Sleep when tired. Don’t when not.” He took a sip from his own cup. “Was up on the roof. Dean was up there. Does that guy ever sleep?”
“Wouldn’t know.”
“The dead had finished formation.”
“Already?”
“Yeah. Until we can get really high up, we don’t know exactly what the formation is, but there is actual form to it. Looks like a triangle to me.”
“Really?”
“Not a perfect one, but yeah. Got the big guys in the front, then all the other ones gathering behind them, but not in equal rows. Looks like the rows get shorter and shorter the further back they go. Looks like a triangle to me.”
“What do you think it means?”
He sighed then took another sip. “I think this is going to go beyond what anyone expects or even what anyone here might even be hoping for.” He leaned forward and put his elbows on the table, cup between his hands. “Before I came here, my friends and I took a helicopter off the roof of the Richardson Building—our Richardson Building—and we were in that storm I mentioned a while back.”
She remembered, and she believed him.
“When we came through the other side of the storm, the sun was shining and the city was intact. People were walking on the sidewalks, cars were driving down the streets. It was beautiful, so amazing to see after a whole year under a sky that looks like a foggy beer bottle. We landed in a bank’s parking lot, of all places. We went in. The people inside didn’t see us. This was me, Billie and August, by the way. We lost Des . . . he didn’t make it to the chopper and was something else when we returned but I’m getting ahead of myself. At the bank, the people couldn’t see us, couldn’t hear us. We separated and as I made my way down the stairs to the basement, I fell through the floor, actually fell through it and was engulfed in total darkness. I fell for a long, long time and at ripping fast speed. To be honest, I don’t know how long it took, but I landed on stone and it started to get hot, real hot. In the distance I saw this enormous lake of flames.”
“I remember you saying you went to . . . you know.”
“I was in Hell, Tracy. The Hell.”
Her heart pounded and even though Joe was safe here with her now, she was terrified for him.
He took another sip. She wanted one of her own, but right now even the heat off the coffee didn’t sit right.
He said, “These creatures, these awful creatures attacked me. I tried to defend myself but it was next to impossible. These things—compared to them? I’d take fighting the undead all day every day if there was a choice.” Quietly, he said, “There might not be a choice soon.”
“What?”
“Down there, I thought that was it. I had died or something and was in the place every person dreads to go even if they don’t believe in it, and I tell you, you better believe in it if you don’t because I was there and that place is very real. So these creatures attacked me and I would’ve been doomed had not this angel come down in this crazy brilliant blaze of white and golden light, sword in hand, and saved me from those things. He took me back to the surface, back into the bank, but by then it was too late. The bank’s floor looked smashed and ripped open and after we came out, all those terrible creatures came out after us and started attacking my friends and I. The angel defended us, but also told us to go. We did, made it to the helicopter despite being attacked again. The storm started up again, this time at ground level. We wound up back in the storm then came through and were in the air. We landed back on the same roof and, well, you know the rest.” He finished his coffee. “This thing happening outside, those creatures aren’t stupid. You know as well as I do that, yes, some are as brain dead as this cup, but others show more cunning. I think those evil spirits inside them are limited in that they can use the body, but can’t operate it at its full potential, yet need that body to take over everything first.”
“Which they’ve pretty much done.”
“I don’t know how many of us are out there, but compared to the seven billion or so people that used to be on this planet? I can’t see there being more than a hundred thousand, two hundred thousand tops left. It might sound like a lot, but that’s really next to nothing. That’s worldwide. I won’t claim to be an expert at this, but I’m guessing that phase one of their plan is pretty much complete and the only way to finish us off is to go to phase two.”
“Which is?”
“Who knows, but that triangle thing they got going outside? That’s got to be part of it. The undead don’t just all get together and wait around. They’re always moving, even the ones that can barely walk.”
She took a minute to soak it all in and finish her own cup of coffee. If what Joe was saying was right or even partly accurate, their little band of people at the safe house wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight. Though Dean would probably feel otherwise, it seemed the safest choice was to hightail it out of town and not look back. “What’re we going to tell Dean?”
“This is his house, so he’s got to know, but as inspiring as your guys’ speech had been, it’s not going to do much good out there. You need to talk to him, warn him.”
“What about the others?”
“I don’t know. Pros and cons. Do whichever outweighs the other after you talk to Dean.”
“Okay.” She took his hand in hers, his warm fingers comforting after what he just said. She kissed his hand, then got up and left the table. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“Don’t plan on it,” he said as she left the room.
After heading to the bathroom then tracking down Dean, who had finally gone to bed after having probably been up all night, she hated to wake him but gave him a nudge anyway.
“Hm? What?” he said, mouth half-closed.
“It’s Tracy. I need you to wake up.”
“What time is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is it important?”
“Very.”
He blinked his eyes open, yawned. She caught a whiff of stale coffee breath. It didn’t bother her as much as it used to, not since living in a city with the unrelenting stench of decay on the air.
She laid it out plain as day for him. Dean simply sat on the edge of his bed, eyes to the floor, listening. When she was done, he said, “You realize that guy’s crazy, right?”
“Stop it.”
“He is.”
“No, he’s not. I’ve known him a long time.”
“How long?”
“Long enough to know he’s not nuts. Look, you have to trust me. I know it sounds farfetched, but we also live in a world where the dead have come back to life, and if you believe that, then you have to believe what is clearly the cause of the madness. Don’t brush me off, Dean. You’ve known me to be completely level-headed, dedicated, and hardworking. Why would I come to you with a fairytale unless it’s real?”
“You’re serious.”
“More than.”
“Then this is something that I have no idea how to handle.”
“Few do.”
“Will our weapons work?”
“I don’t know. They have, so far so unless something drastic changes, they should still be effective.”
Dean sighed.
“We’re running out of time.”
“I don’t think we should tell the others,” he said.
“Because?”
“Because either one of two things will happen: they’ll simply not believe you and you’ll be a laughing stock, or they will and” —he lowered his voice— “some of these guys are already on the edge of crazy. Do you want to be the one to push them over?”
“Those who aren’t have a right to know. Imagine if we’re out there fighting and suddenly these things transform, then what?”
“Maybe they’ll panic and attack out of survival instinct?”
“Or maybe they’ll curl up in a ball and get slaughtered.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll give you a list of names of people not to tell. Everyone else, take aside privately, take Joe with you just in case someone overreacts. Bring up to one more with you—whoever of whom you tell, but only one—and use them as ‘helpful reassurance’ or something as you break the news to people. If they have questions, send them to me.”
“But you don’t have answers.”
“Neither do you, not completely, but we need to help each other out so I’ll handle that side of it, or pretend to. It’s my duty, anyway.” He yawned. “We’re doing this now?”
“There might not be a later.”
* * * *
26
Leaving
Billie sat in the belly of a cargo aircraft, arms crossed, knees drawn up, just waiting out the flight. Few personnel were with her aside from the pilot and co-pilot. She was told to remain in her seat at all times. She didn’t mind. She was dead dog tired, but the extreme noise of the plane made it difficult to sleep soundly. At best she’d been able to doze off and on since they departed. She checked with a short guy who was writing something down on a clipboard what time it was and he replied 4:42 in the morning, but didn’t make clear which time zone.
Not as bad as I thought. Been in the air for seven hours already. Still a long way to go, though. Nole had pulled some strings and got her onto the cargo plane headed for Wales where they’d offload most of the cargo and reloaded it with an array of weapons from the other underground tech labs at the rendezvous point. Only cities with great infestations and the giants were to receive the cargo, the plan being to hit hard where the biggest threat was first and, if successful, branch out and eradicate the easier threats.
Sven and Bastian were with her, Sven refusing to leave her side and Bastian refusing to leave his. She thought it was sweet and was actually looking forward to getting to know Sven better. Never thought she’d be into a foreign guy, but here she was.
Billie eyed the bracelet. “Going to be home soon,” she quietly said. Home. Hope Joe’s still alive. Last she saw him was when the biplane that rescued her and August flew away without him. She’d have to tell him about August and assure him their friend and mentor didn’t die in vain. Billie knew Joe’d feel guilty over it despite anything she might say, but she had to tell him anyway.
When they eventually landed back home, she didn’t know how she’d react or how bad it might’ve gotten, but thankfully she had Sven and Bastian to keep her company until things got sorted out. She did make one definite decision though: once back, she would never leave the city again.
* * * *
Tracy looked wearied when she came up to Joe and he was about to prescribe her a nap when she said, “Well, I told people. Not everyone, but most. Some thought I was crazy, others didn’t care—can you believe that?—and others looked at me with such doughy-eyed wonder that I was the one that felt like I was getting the weird news.”
“At least you told them.”
“That’s all I can do.”
“You look tired.”
“It’s not that. Just worn out in general. Like waiting for summer vacation, but when it comes, you got to figure out what to do with all that time and you wish you could stay in school.”
“You wished that?”
“So I’m a bookworm. Sue me.”
He smiled. “One of these days I’ll track down copies of my comics or something and give them to you, see what you think.”
“Might not be a good idea. I’m very picky.”
“That’s fine. I’ve had my fair share of bad reviews so I got a thick skin. Besides, after the past year, everyone in the world could hate me and I’d be fine with it.”
“Better not put me on that list.”
“Naw, you’re on a different one.”
“Which one?”
“Ask me when this is all over.”
“If it ever is all over.”
We’ll see.
Someone screamed down the hallway; Joe and Tracy immediately ran toward the sound.
A skinny Asian girl stood by the main entrance, back to the door, her knees bent and legs planted as if she was actually trying to hold it up.
Another woman ran up to her. “What? It’s okay. What happened?”
From the other side of the door: “Hey, let me in!”
“Who is it?” the woman said.
“It’s Jerry,” the voice said. “Open the door! He’s going to bi—” Jerry’s scream was hoarse.
The woman shoved the Asian girl out of the way; Tracy caught her.
“What’s going on?” Tracy asked.
The girl’s tears ran into her mouth as she spoke through them. “We went out on a quick scout of the perimeter. We were followed, couldn’t close the entrance in time. I saw them grab him. He might be bit. Don’t let him in.”
Jerry’s scream was louder and when Joe looked up, the woman had the door open and Jerry’s body fell into the room, a row of gutmunchers behind him, one of them attached to his leg.
Joe whipped out his gun and popped the creature in the head before taking the lead and helping the woman pull Jerry in by his blood-soaked hands. He fired off a couple more shots, dropping the nearest advancing undead, then slammed the door, locked it.
“No one comes in or out, understand!” he shouted.
A couple of people nodded. Others were too wrapped up in the pandemonium to hear him or care.
Back at Jerry’s side, the heavyset man with the shaved head roiled in pain on the ground, kicking both legs, the one with the bite spattering blood on the wall.
“Hey . . . hey!” the woman said, Jerry’s head in her hands. “Wake up, Jer. Wake up!”
Jerry’s eyes were half-closed.
“He’s losing a ton of blood.” Joe leaned closer to the wound and just as he got a good look at the torn, blood-drenched flesh, a loud gunshot went off and blood sprayed him. Shocked, he looked down the length of Jerry’s body and saw his head had been blown open, bone and brain all over the place. Just beyond the body was another of the men who called the safe house home, a gun in his hands, smoke snaking out of the barrel, body trembling.
The room went silent except for the sound of undead hands pawing against the other side of the door.
Tracy snapped the gun out of the man’s hands; he grabbed her and Joe immediately lunged over Jerry’s body toward them. Tracy hooked the guy in the head. He teetered and she came in again from the other side, dropping him.
Joe jumped on top of him, wrestled him over, and held his han
ds behind his back. “What’s the matter with you? That guy could’ve survived!”
“Not after being bit,” the man shouted. “I just saved us all.”
“You don’t know that. We could’ve saved him.”
“You owe me. You all owe me!”
Joe shoved his forearm against the base of the guy’s neck, keeping the man’s head down and hopefully his mouth shut. The man started wailing and bawling into the floor.
To the side, Tracy ensured the Asian girl was in the proper care, while everyone else gave Jerry’s body some room, even the woman who had tried to bring him around. Joe simply laid his weight into the guy who killed Jerry and kept him down. Once the man began to settle, he was passed off to Rob and Hal.
Getting up, Joe asked Tracy, “What’re they going to do with him?”
“I don’t know. This kind of thing happens once in a while and they’re each dealt with case-by-case. Odds are they’re going to take him somewhere where he can’t hurt anyone else, get him to calm right down and, maybe, work it out.”
“They can’t take him out of here. You saw the creatures.”
“No, they’ll find a spot here.”
The zombies still beat on the door. The safe house was compromised.
“Jerry’s an idiot,” Tracy said.
“He’s dead, show some respect.”
“I am. I know he’s dead, but he’s an idiot for letting them follow him. He would’ve known the protocol. Even getting in here is not easy. Either he panicked or something worse happened and he did the best he could. Probably a bit of both.”
“Still not an idiot.”
“I’d call you the same if you led a horde of them in here.”
“You can call me what you want, but, man, that guy’s dead. Slow it down.”
She looked away.
What’s her problem? Maybe she is worn out, like she said. Patience is at an end. “Look, everyone’s already getting together. It’s time to come up with a plan, and fast.”
* * * *
27
On the Street
Joe and Tracy moved through the back corridor of the safe house, taking up the lead with Dean. Behind them were the two trainers, the guy who shot Jerry in between them, followed by everyone else. Fully-armed with flashlights lit, the group negotiated the corridor, which was about thirty meters long, until they emerged from another door that led into a small alcove beneath one more pile of rubble.
